


We All Have Issues

by happy_birthday_diane_use_a_pretty_font



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_birthday_diane_use_a_pretty_font/pseuds/happy_birthday_diane_use_a_pretty_font
Summary: Bobbi doesn't get why Sherman can't function normally, but it turns out he understands more then either of them thought.





	We All Have Issues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tommyshaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommyshaw/gifts).



> Thank you Mo forthe courage to write this :)

**__** __

When Bobbi arrived at his boyfriend's apartment, Sherman was already on the couch, in his pajamas. Evidently, he'd gotten home early. That wasn't much of a surprise; they'd texted that morning, and Sherman had warned him it would be a "bad day." Yet  _ another _ bad day. 

"Get over here," said Sherman. "I missed you."

Bobbi put his things down and approached. "Have you been wallowing here all afternoon?"

Sherman pulled him down onto his lap, buried his face in Bobbi's neck, and inhaled deeply. He loved the smell of shampoo and hairspray that lingered on Bobbi after work. 

"Well?"

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"I said, 'Have you been wallowing here all afternoon?'"

"I wouldn't call it wallowing."

Bobbi plucked his boyfriend's dirty glasses off his face and began cleaning them on his sleeve. 

"Are you ok, babe?" Bobbi was usually gabbing about his day before he was even in the door, but today he was quiet.

"Perfectly fine."

"...Okay." He cradled Bobbi in his arms and leaned back so they could watch TV together, but Bobbi wasn't receptive.

"What gruesome thing are you watching, now?"

"Some kinda crime show. We can switch it, if you want." He was running his hands through masses of white hair. 

Bobbi sighed and stood. 

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Okay." He let Bobbi do his thing (get changed into comfortable clothes for the night, wash his face, maybe put his hair up into that bouncy little ponytail, if Sherman was lucky).

A few minutes later, he heard the rumble of the washing machine. 

"Are you doing laundry?" called Sherman. 

"Uh-huh. Your bathroom was filled with clothes, just overflowing." He entered the living room again (no ponytail, to Sherman's disappointment) and began picking up some trash, though there was surprisingly little. 

"I know." He stood and helped his boyfriend tidy up by folding the throw blankets he wasn't using and draping them artfully over the back of the couch. "Thanks for cleaning up, especially the laundry. That's really helpful."

"Yeah. I don't get why you can't just  _ do _ it."

Sherman paused; this was an insecurity of his, and now, he tried not to snap. "I have a hard time on my bad days."

"We all have bad days, but we make it work."

"Yeah, well everyone's different." He turned to his boyfriend, ready to defend himself. 

Bobbi's hands were on his hips. "You can't always indulge your feelings."

"I  _ don't _ always indulge my feelings."

Bobbi indicated around the room. "You  _ just _ cleaned. You could have done that earlier."

"It's easier with someone else," Sherman said through gritted teeth. "There's a lot of progress you don't even see, you know."

Bobbi raised an eyebrow. "Really?" 

"I showered, beyond just rinsing off. I shampooed and conditioned and stayed standing the whole time. And I, y'know...groomed." 

Bobbi smiled at that and pulled his boyfriend into a hug. 

"Let's talk about that last bit _._ "

"I did a face mask, too. The dead sea salt one."

Bobbi bit his lip, even more pleased, now. "I  _ thought _ your nose had an uncharacteristically matte finish, today." 

"Yeah, well. I try."

"I know, honey. It's just…second-hand frustrating to watch your behavior."

"I don't know what that means." He blamed the lack of understanding on the fact that he was nibbling on Bobbi's ear. 

"It's annoying because I know you'd be happier if your environment was nicer, but your environment isn't going to get any better if you're too sad to fix it. Dare I say self-eating snake?"

"It's a symptom." He let go of Bobbi when he saw the blonde's expression. "Why do you always roll your eyes at that?"

"Because everything has to be a  _ symptom _ with you! You know, we  _ all _ hate our lives."

"I don't hate - "

"We all wish we'd made different decisions, and that we could go back and change it, or just curl up in a ball and forget about it. But, we get out of bed and face the day anyway." He'd begun pacing around the room to accompany his rant.

"Babe, I think you're underestimating what depression and anxiety are like."

"Oh,  _ anxiety!" _ He threw his hands in the air. "We  _ all _ order our groceries online nowadays because Shop Mart is a hotbed of vicious bacterial waste and angry, underpaid employees! We  _ all _ get scared of driving because steering wheels are filthy!"

"We don't all do that."

"And we  _ all _ have episodes in the bathroom at work once or twice a month, with hyperventilating and abdominal pains because life is meaningless and what the Hell difference is a  _ hair salon  _ in goddamn  _ Danville _ going to make, in the long run?" His chest was rising and falling rather quickly, but he removed his glasses, squeezed the bridge of his nose, and took several calming breaths. "But…We cope, we drink 8 cups of water a day, and meticulously monitor our calorie intake, and have a strict skincare regimen, just so we have control over  _ something.  _ Then, we all put our emotions in a tiny little box and file them away for later, when we die. That's life."

Sherman only stared at his boyfriend. He didn't consider the man shallow,  _ per se, _ but he certainly didn't realize the depth of his angst. And apparently, neither did Bobbi.

"We don't all do that," he repeated.

"Well, maybe you should."

"Come here, baby."

Confused at the sudden affection, Bobbi complied, and let Sherman take him into his arms. Sherman stroked the man's long hair, relishing the feeling of its product-rigid shape coming apart and loosening into its natural waves. 

"That's not normal."

Bobbi rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious. I didn't know you felt…Like that."

"I don't feel anything I don't want to." His breath was becoming shallow again.

"Babe."

"Don't  _ babe _ me!" Bobbi scoffed, pushing Sherman away. "Where do you get off being so condescending? You don't know me."

"I think you should see a therapist."

"I'm not sick!" Bobbi began raising his voice again, but Sherman cut him off.

"You don't have to be sick to talk to a therapist! In fact, I don't think you are, but you definitely have a lot of…emotions, happening. And I think you could do with a professional explanation of  _ my  _ experiences, too. Maybe you'll have some sympathy. I think we're more alike than you think, but your issues make you over-functional while mine make me shut down."

"We - "

"Not everyone feels hopeless all the time, babe, and you don't have to, either. I don't want you to."

"You think you know everything, just because you're depressed about getting older. Well, you're not as special as you think!"

Ordinarily, and understandably, Sherman was hurt when his boyfriend snapped at him so rudely, but now, the reason behind it was clear. Where Sherman's panics were tearful and dizzy, Bobbi's manifested in lightning bolts of rage and annoyance. Bobbi was, apparently, a raw nerve walking around in Gucci frames and tailored denim, impersonating a human being. It was so obvious, now, Sherman thought, and he wished he could kiss both their problems away, touch them away with healing hands, but he couldn't, especially not on a bad day of his own, a Tuesday, no less.

So, Sherman only said, "Let's smoke a joint."

"Ugh!"

"A blunt, then."

Bobbi turned away, perpetually dissatisfied. Sherman came up behind him and held him close by the hips.

"Come on."

"No, way. Marijuana is totally juvenile."

"Okay. First of all, you can smoke out me and Danny combined. In fact, you have, so no high horse."

"Pun intended?"

"Very much so. Second of all, if we don't smoke, how are we going to fully appreciate the  _ Tales Over Topographic Oceans _ vinyl that came in the mail today?"

Bobbi spun around at the mention of his longtime favorite band. "Really?!"

"Uh-huh."

"I'll get the oil diffuser going. Pack a bowl, won't you?"

Sherman kissed his boyfriend's cheeks, nose, and chin, teasing him before finally getting his lips.

"There was a 'third of all,' you know."

"Oh?"

"I just wanted to remind you that I groomed, uh…thoroughly."

"You're so damn fresh," reprimanded Bobbi, smiling.

"You like it." He was pinching anywhere he could. 

"Beast!" Bobbi pranced into the bedroom to escape his lover (or so he claimed), scolding him all the way. But, he didn't  _ really _ mind.

Sherman took a deep breath and decided not to worry, this evening. Bobbi could last a few days while he mulled over how to handle this. He wasn't exactly in crisis, just confused, the poor thing. 

"Hurry up!" Bobbi called from the next room. "Do you want eucalyptus or lavender?"

"Something calming," said Sherman. Maybe this would turn out to be a good day, after all.


End file.
